


Muse

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, painter/poet au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9084949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: A poet and a painter, both with a beautiful brown eyed man on their minds.





	

Bodhi made a noise of disgust, crumpling the paper and tossing it to the ground. Once again he found himself completely unable to focus on his poetry thanks to the stranger in the market. Bodhi cursed his soft heart, his tendency to develop crushes too easily. It had been good for his writing at first, until his poems had started to get specific and touch on nothing but romance.

He needed something different to focus on, something that wasn't romance or pretty eyes. Snow. Snow was pretty and meaningful and a nice, neutral topic. Decided, Bodhi thought of soft white flakes drifting lazily down, of icicles hangover from branches and white blankets over brown soil.

The man in the market had worn a brown beanie that morning, dusted with snow. He'd bought a thin paintbrush and few pastries. He'd nodded at the vendor and chuckled at a child running by and Bodhi had had to look away or risk doing something stupid. And now he was unable to get the man out of his mind, as usual. His writing process was blocked by thoughts of chestnut hair and dark eyes and calloused yet somehow delicate hands.

Bodhi groaned and set his pencil to the paper, sheer frustration moving his hand.

_My love is like snowfall on a winter morning,  
Fucking annoying._

\---

Cassian sat at his easel, determination flowing through him. He was not going to paint the man this time. He was not going to paint the man. He was going to paint Kay. Just Kay, and no one but Kay. He mixed the paint, starting on the black of Kay's hair, and studiously not thinking of the lovely man who visited the market every so often.

Cassian painted a clean shaven face, gray eyes, dark skin with short cropped hair...

The man had had his hair tied back when Cassian saw him that morning, snowflakes resting in the brown locks like a crown, and all the poetry in the world finally made sense to Cassian. The light in the man's eyes when he'd thanked the vendor had stayed with Cassian, haunting his thoughts and dogging his creative process like the most ridiculous and grandiose of Shakespeare's sonnets.

This must be what poets feel like, Cassian thought, the lovesick fools. Cassian was brought out of his reverie by a car honking somewhere outside. He turned his attention back to his canvas and groaned at what he saw.

Kay's gray eyes had somehow become brown, his hair long and lightened to a pleasant chocolate color. His scowl had been converted to a friendly smile, looking cheerfully at a vendor just out of sight.

Damn it.

\---

"Hey, Bodhi, have you been to the art museum recently?" Baze asked, a secretive smile playing on his lips. Bodhi looked up from his seventh attempt at writing, hair messy from running his fingers through it so often.

"No? Why?"

"You have to see this." was all the answer he got. Bodhi wasn't normally one for art museums, but the playful glint in Baze's eyes had piqued his curiosity. He reluctantly tore himself away from his desk and grabbed his coat.

\---

"That poet wrote another poem about brown eyes again," Kay informed him, "I still think he's talking about you."

Cassian didn't answer. Kay looked over his shoulder at the yet unfinished canvas. Cassian's mysterious market man again. Big surprise.

"That's the eighth portrait of that guy you've done. When should I expect the wedding announcement?"

"Shut up." Cassian mumbled, intensely focused.

"Fine fine, I won't remind you about the art show that starts in an hour." Kay said flippantly, leaving the room, "You know, the one you're supposed be at?"

"Shit!"

\---

The art museum was alive with activity, and Cassian's work had been a hit once again. Smiling, Cassian turned a corner and immediately jumped back behind it, heart hammering.

The man from the market was here. The man was _here_ and looking at the painting of him with confusion. Right here within ten feet of him, and Cassian had an excellent excuse to talk to him should he choose to.

He was going to do it. Cassian Andor would talk to the beautiful stranger. He took a deep breath, trying to make himself look presentable. He stepped out from behind the corner, making his way to the man with determination.

"I..." the half formed words died in his throat as the man turned and looked at him for the first time in weeks. Those eyes were even more beautiful up close, soft and nervous and a particular shade of brown Cassian could never truly do justice to. Cassian wanted to tell him as much.

"Do you like it?" he said instead, turning to look at the pale imitation of the man next to him. The man blinked, mouth falling open slightly as he also turned to look at the painting.

"You're Cassian Andor? You made this?" he asked, an unidentifiable tone in his voice. Cassian felt his heart drop, realizing how this may be construed. What if the man thought he was creepy? What if he politely asked him not to paint him anymore?

"You managed to make me look beautiful." the man said instead, granting Cassian the smile he'd obsessed over for weeks.

"You always look beautiful." Cassian managed through the sudden dryness of his mouth. The shy smile showing off pretty teeth didn't help Cassian articulacy.

"My name is Bodhi." the man, _Bodhi_ , introduced himself, "Its really nice to meet you."

"Bodhi." Cassian tested the name on his tongue, "Would you happen to be Bodhi Rook the poet?"

"Ah... you know about me?" a pleased expression stole across his face, and Cassian felt his heart skip a beat.

"My friend is convinced you're secretly pining for me and that all your poems are actually about me." Cassian laughed, "He means well but he's kinda paranoid."

"Erm, well..." Cassian finally noticed the red flush to Bodhi's cheeks. It suited him. Cassian knew what he was painting next.

"Bodhi?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

"I'm sorry. I would see you at the market all the time and you're _really_ attractive and I guess I kinda..." he wouldn't look Cassian in the eyes, "I haven't really been able to write about anything except you for some time. I-I'm really sorry, I know it's creepy-"

"Me too." Cassian blurted out before Bodhi could finish. Bodhi looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. Cassian hurried to clarify.

"I've been seeing you at the market too. And I've been painting you. Like, nonstop. I didn't even realize it until Kay, my friend, said it was creepy. You don't... think I'm creepy, do you? Because I'll understand if you do but I really hope you don't. _Maldición_ , I don't usually ramble like this-"

"Would you like to grab dinner sometime? Maybe a movie?" Bodhi saved Cassian from further embarrassment, eyes crinkled with amusement even as his hands shook.

"Tomorrow night?" Cassian couldn't hide his beaming smile, "I'll pay if you drive."

"Deal." Bodhi grinned, taking out his phone, "This is the part where I ask for your number."

They exchanged numbers, and Cassian could hardly contain his giddiness.

"You'll have to show me these other paintings of me." Bodhi joked, "Now I'm curious."

"And I'm going to read all your poetry as soon as this gallery is over." Cassian suddenly remembered something, "Hey, that poem, God Damn It, Market Man... was that about me?"

"Yeah." Bodhi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Cassian laughed, taking the hand and holding it loosely.

"I'm going to frame it and put it on my wall." Cassian chuckled, "Come on, let me show you around."

**Author's Note:**

> I saw an ask on tumblr and I had to write it. I'm sorry for any mistakes.


End file.
